


Not Happening... Happening

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey, Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Come Swallowing, Confessions, Idolization, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: The thought has rolled through his mind before, hot and desperate and caught somewhere in the folds of memories he doesn't usually care to dwell on. Tonight proves more difficult though. There's a game tomorrow and the team's in town now... andhe'sin town and it makes it harder not to long for it. Not that he thinks he has a chance. He's from another country, just a random guitarist that so few stateside have ever heard of. The likelihood of being let into the inner folds of something he's got no business sticking his nose into is well... not happening.
Relationships: Cale Makar/Die (Dir en grey)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 10





	Not Happening... Happening

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't help myself. -cough- Dir en grey tour and all my swirling hockey feelings, well... here we are!  
None of this is real, I'm just helplessly drowning over here and well, this happened. ;) Have fun.  
Beta: Jess
> 
> For those who aren't in the know on both sides of this: [Cale Makar](https://www.nhl.com/player/cale-makar-8480069) and [Die - first three pics are him](https://www.instagram.com/p/B58WhdJAmE1/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet)

The thought has rolled through his mind before, hot and desperate and caught somewhere in the folds of memories he doesn't usually care to dwell on. Tonight proves more difficult though. There's a game tomorrow and the team's in town now... and _he's_ in town and it makes it harder not to long for it. Not that he thinks he has a chance. He's from another country, just a random guitarist that so few stateside have ever heard of. The likelihood of being let into the inner folds of something he's got no business sticking his nose into is well... not happening. 

That aside, no one has ever said he isn't up for a challenge and when he wants to, he can play up who he is to get where he wants to be. He doesn't like to use it, but he will if it means obtaining a goal, dumb as this particular one is.

He gets a Lyft and escapes without so much as a single person in line noticing that he's leaving and that alone feels like victory. He has to be back before the show and he's careful to set several alarms telling himself exactly that. It doesn't take too long before he's where he wants to be though, lingering outside Pepsi Center and trying to figure out what to say to get where he wants to be. He thinks these things are usually pre-paid events, if they're even still in there practicing, which, honestly, he can't be sure they are. 

It's a deep breath and a prayer before he just heads inside and hopes for the best. The stadium's so big no one stops him when he wanders in and there's even less to stop him from entering the maze of seating and down on the ice he can see a group of three, clearly dicking around instead of practicing. It looks friendly, like friends catching up and flitting around.

He makes his way down through the seats all the way to the glass and he hesitates there, feeling like he's intruding and yet... he's drawn into watching how easily they move on the ice that he can't help but stand there and hope no one notices him. If he's quiet, if he doesn't do something dumb like take his phone out... maybe they'll let him be that weird guy just standing around. 

He stays for a few minutes, watches and catches just enough glimpses of them that he knows who they are. An unlikely group, but it makes him smile anyway. Noah and TJ don't surprise him, but the fact that Cale's there does. Sure, it's technically his team's rink, but consorting with the Flames... what would the fans say? He thinks it'd be something like his own reaction, a warm little pit of happiness in his belly to see them with each other, all smiles and laughter and... he misses this. Not the ice or hockey, really, but the cool air and the feeling of seeing people he respects in their prime. But it's hard to miss going to hockey games when he's never been able to make it happen and it's hard to miss the ice when he's never skated in his life. He touches the Plexi and inhales the cool air and wishes his band were here tomorrow night and not due somewhere else. 

He lets the longing settle in and then exhales it, letting his disappointment go like he's let so many other things go in the past. He's living one dream and it has to be enough. He's a guitarist for a damn fine band and people adore him and shower him with praise and gifts and affection and he has to remind himself sometimes that it's the life he chose to live. If it's meant giving up other dreams along the way, well... that's just part of what he signed up for. He doesn't let it eat at him long, only enough to acknowledge it's an emotion he has and then he lets it fall away, the way he lets his fingertips fall away from the glass as he turns to walk away.

He's barely three steps away when he hears skates on ice, quick and getting louder and he prepares to be told to leave even though he already is, continuing on his path, albeit slower than he probably should be. The rink gate opens and a second later, a quiet, "Hey," catches up to him and he pauses, pushes his hands into his coat pockets and turns to look at Cale in all his geared up glory. Cale's head tilts slightly to the side and he blinks a few times like he's seeing things and trying to make them go away before he spits out a disbelieving laugh. "No way... dude." He comes off the ice, the door forgotten behind him and Die watches as TJ and Noah just stare after him with interest. 

Cale's skates thump across the rubber matting until he's standing there, towering over Die despite their similar heights, wrestling his glove off and then holding out his hand. Die slowly extracts his from his coat pocket and their hands touch, cool flesh to warmer and a huge grin spreads over Cale's face. "Die, right?"

This... this shocks him. Of all the ways he'd imagined having to use who he was to get in here, he'd never expected one of the players to have any idea who he was. "Yes." He carefully picks out Cale's last name and the proper pronunciation and murmurs, "Cale Makar, it's good to meet you."

Cale positively beams at him, looking thrilled beyond reason and Die suspects it has something to do with him knowing Cale's name. He has to remind himself the guy's a rookie and probably close enough to the right age range to have any idea who the fuck Dir en grey are stateside. Their hands linger for longer than is probably socially acceptable but Cale doesn't seem intent on dropping it and Die doesn't really want to pull away, so they just stay like that, holding on and apparently equally as bad at this whole conversation thing. Finally, Cale manages to break their silence and extracts his hand, looking flustered as he does it, like he'd forgotten he was holding onto Die for so long. "I saw too late you guys were in town... sold out and all that. Never imagined you'd show up here!"

It puts Die back in familiar territory and he gives Cale an easy smile and pushes his sunglasses up on top of his head, letting it trap all his blonde hair back from his face. "It's a small venue." He thinks about it, knows he could get him in, and knows no one else has shown up for their personal roster here in Denver, so... _fuck it_. "If you want, I can put you on the list." He gestures a little toward the ice. "Could do three if they'd like."

Cale looks ready to pass out and Die feels that down to his toes. If he had a few years less experience under his belt, he'd be there, too. He's been there with other people and he's still impossibly awkward when it comes to it.

"I'd love to. Let me... let me check with the guys if they'd like to come, hang on!" He looks positively exuberant as he gets back on the ice and skates out to the others. Die can't hear them but Cale's grinning so hard it's infectious and TJ catches it first and then Noah and there's some friendly shoving before the three of them head back toward the gate and leave the ice, heading right toward him. He gets hands offered to him and he takes them in turn, smiling when Noah says, "He wouldn't shut up about missing the show. All I've heard for two weeks now. You're making his damn night. Hell, his year."

TJ elbows Cale and Cale's blushing up to the tips of his ears and god, Die wants to do something about that that is inherently _wrong_. He ignores the urge, just as he always does, and remakes his offer of tickets for all of them if they want them. They do and they're so happy about it, Die can't help but grin at them in return. His phone vibrates and he tugs it out to see the first of his many alarms, telling him he has to be back in two hours.

He flicks the notification away and unlocks his phone to send Nora a message. He glances up. "Three, yes?"

All of them nod at him and he sends off a text telling her to add three names to the list for his guests for tonight: TJ Brodie, Noah Hanifin, and Cale Makar. He hits send and tucks it back into his pocket. "Done."

Cale gets an elbow from TJ again and clears his throat. "I know you have a show tomorrow, but... if any of our games ever align with a time you have, I'd be more than happy to return the favor of tickets. We even have a private box up top or first couple rows behind our bench, either way."

Something flares to life in Die's chest and he smiles and then touches the pocket his phone is in. "I could give you my number... it's international, though."

Cale looks ready to faint and TJ has to turn away to try to hide that he's laughing, which really doesn't work, but Die's amused so it doesn't matter all that much in the end. 

"I, uh, my phone's..." Cale gestures toward where the locker rooms presumably are and then he manages, "if you want to come back with us..."

And honestly, Die's never heard anything so grand in his life. He nods and gestures for them to lead on and they traipse back toward the locker rooms, though TJ and Noah split off after making sure they're supposed to be there at six and which venue it is. Die follows Cale down the hallway and into the locker rooms. It's simple, much more so than Die would have thought. Just simple wooden stalls with their gear hanging in them and what's clearly Cale's practice bag ditched on the floor next to the stall labeled with his name. He carefully avoids stepping on their logo on the huge rug and comes to stand next to where Cale has plopped down and started rooting through his bag.

He's passed a phone with the contact screen up and he carefully inputs his name, phone number including all the proper area codes, and his email address in case that's easier. On a whim, he takes a dweeby photo of himself and puts it as the contact picture and saves it before passing it back to Cale. He watches Cale about come apart at the seams and he's been here, done this, almost feels like doing it himself given where he's standing. He holds out his phone, the contact lines up. 

Sinking down to sit on the bench beside Cale, he watches his hands shake a little as he enters his name, number and email as well and he smiles when the favor of a photo is returned and he takes it back to save the contact. "You know... the feeling is," he gestures between them, "same." He watches Cale blink at him like he can't quite compute that and he laughs softly. "I knew your name, didn't I?"

This makes Cale look like he's drowning all over again and then he starts chuckling, shaking his head. "Man... I'm doing bad at this acting chill thing, huh?"

Die shrugs. "It has taken years for it to be less for me. You have time." He reaches to gently press his knuckles against Cale's shoulder and pushes just the slightest. For one moment, Cale's looking at him and Die swears he sees something there; something mirrored deep in his own mind and he debates what to do about it. For now he holds Cale's gaze, barely breathing, hoping he's right and lets whatever this is simmer between them.

Cale's the one who breaks it off, looking away and clearly fighting to stop grinning. "You guys leaving right after the show or have a little bit?"

Die holds up two fingers close to one another and makes a face. "Tiny bit of time. Hour after packing up maybe?"

Cale chews his lower lip ever so slightly, looks like he's deliberating, and then gestures toward the showers. "Gotta get cleaned up, but if you want to stick around, I can give you a ride back to the venue? I'll be fast."

Die crosses one leg over the other and nods, giving Cale a smile. "Sounds good."

Cale settles and starts to strip down _right in front of him_ and Die... well, he watches, perhaps more closely than he should, but he stares at him taking his skates off, watches every single piece of him un-taping and where every piece of gear goes as it comes off. He tries - and fails - to convince himself he's not watching the skin slowly being revealed to him and tells himself its not doing to him what it so clearly is. He wonders if what he saw in Cale's eyes was the truth of it or not, if he'd be disgusted if he understood just how much he really wants. He bites down on a sigh, holds it inside when Cale stands and removes the last part of his clothing, underwear going in the bin a few feet from them and he tries not to be so obvious about watching Cale's ass as he walks off to the showers.

Left alone, he kills the next two alarms on his phone and brings up a text to Nora, telling her he'll be there but he's getting a ride from one of the guys and yes, he'll be in time for the meet and greets. He knows her questions before she even has a chance to ask them.

Cale's not long, he wasn't lying when he said he could be fast. Five minutes, tops, and he's back at his stall, towel around his waist, rooting around in his bag for clothing. "You can always text me. It's not just a number for tickets... just... wanted to say that."

It's endearing, really, and Die feels the warmth of his own smile as he murmurs, "Same."

They get caught staring at each other again and Die debates how bad it would be to share this piece of his truth with Cale, to put a name to this boiling _something_ between them. He's not sure how it would go. Sports are notoriously a man's man club and not a good place for anything remotely homosexual. He wonders if the fact that he loves being with basically anyone would change that view, if it'd somehow be a lesser offense. The industry in Japan doesn't think so, despite what the mainstream manga sales might speak to. That part makes it even harder. Though he's been in a position where he's had to deny it before: a certain tour, a certain guitarist, and some very drunken videos. They bought his lies then and he thinks he could weave them again as long as no one was recording them.

He looks away while Cale dresses, too lost in his own thoughts for conversation and Cale clearly too nervous. Maybe if he waits until after the show, makes his move then... but it'll be so late and he much prefers pre-concert canoodling over post-concert when he's all sweaty and gross. 

They make small talk as they go out to Cale's car, a beautiful blue green sports car Die's never even seen before and he wonders if the guy blew his first paycheck on it. Not that he can blame him, if Japan were more car-friendly, he'd probably own a lovely one himself. 

They're halfway to the venue when Die decides enough is enough. It's either try or never know and he's not a fan of living his life surrounded by what-ifs or should-haves. It takes him a minute to formulate something that says what he wants it to in English and once he's got it figured out, he just spits it out. "Was I reading too much into our shared looks in the locker room and when we met?"

Cale's hands flex on the steering wheel and he looks cagey, scared, and Die understands this, too. He thinks he's being put on the spot, called out, no matter how hard Die tried to tell him it was both of them. He doesn't let it linger, instead reaches his hand over the console and leaves it palm-up, waiting, an invitation.

"I understand having secrets... I have mine."

Cale relaxes at that, finally glances over at him and then down at his hand and it takes a moment and another stoplight before he peels his hand off the wheel and links it with Die's. It's another two miles before Cale murmurs, "No one can know. I'd lose my job. The NHL-"

"Doesn't understand. Neither does my record label." Die squeezes his fingers in reassurance. "We all hide... together."

"TJ and Noah don't know."

Die counters with his own hidden truth. "Shinya knows, the others don't." 

He watches Cale swallow and then feels it as he grips his hand tighter. They don't talk most of the rest of the way to the venue until Cale finally murmurs, "Are we going to do something about those looks then?"

Die takes a moment to parse the sentence and then laughs, his thumb swiping over Cale's knuckles. "Would like to..."

"When? Where?" There's a breathless quality to Cale's words now that leave Die half-hard in his jeans and he debates it, finally offers, "There's a small room in the back of the venue. Could close the door."

"Yes." 

Die tries not to laugh at the eagerness of the response, smiles to himself and waits as they find a parking space and pull in. He knows he can get in the employee entrance and he leads the way, urging Cale with him and they slip inside. Toshiya's sitting in the room and Die spends one awkward moment staring at him before Toshiya gets up and just walks past them, closing the door on his way out. 

Cale clears his throat and Die turns to look at him and takes in how his eyebrows are raised and the questioning look on his face. "You sure it's only Shinya that knows?"

Die makes a face. "Maybe not... I've been very drunk around him before."

Cale laughs and Die thinks it's gorgeous, wants to feel it against his lips, swallow it up inside him. He knows he's welcome and he doesn't hesitate, instead shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto one of the fake leather chairs. He steps up to Cale and slides his hands over his waist, around to his ass and slips his hands into his back pockets, dragging them together and back up against the door. Their lips meet a second later and Cale groans into it, his hands instantly in Die's hair, gentle, as if he knows it can't get too messed up but needed to touch anyway, and Die nips his bottom lip in appreciation. 

He tastes like Die kind of always imaged he would and smells like cheap cologne and it amuses Die to his very core that his very sexy rookie pickup just happens to have some of his pre-NHL habits still so obviously entwined with him. He suspects he was right about where all of his money went at first and that fuels him on, too, despite it having no reason to do so. They arch into one another, hungry, desperate, and Die knows he feels like it's been too long since he had the touch of another man. He wonders how long it's been for Cale.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to glance at the time, judge how fast he has to take this, and delves back in. It's an odd feeling not being the one pinned against the door. Generally speaking, Die's experiences in the past have been with guys a little more out than he is, usually older, and this is... well, it's different and it's _very_ good. He's enjoying himself, the freedom to be the one exploring, the one moving them to the next level, and he feels like he's taking Cale apart at the seams, picking apart his stitching, line by line, and wonders in a vague sort of manner if someone could cum from kissing alone. Cale looks like he could, but Die wants to do more than that with him.

Excitement boils inside him and he separates long enough to get his hands on Cale's pants and start working them open. Cale fumbles to do the same and Die lets him, even stays still long enough to let him get everything undone before he makes his next move, sliding to his knees and pulling the elastic of Cale's underwear down.

He meets Cale's gaze before he does it, waits to see the awed expression, and then smirks and leans in, licking his tongue over his already weeping slit and then opens his mouth and slides down on his dick. It's been too long since he's done this, since he's gotten a mouth full of cock and felt that burning hot _something_ ease up inside him. He shivers at the way it makes him feel and starts to work Cale over in the best way he knows how. He watches Cale's cheeks start to flush and the way his mouth drops open and feels his hands tighten in his hair just the slightest amount. He sees every single cut-off whine, feels every aborted rock of his hips, and sees how very, dangerously close Cale is already. 

Die reminds himself Cale's only twenty one and his experience level is probably so much less than Die's own and... lord, he's more than twice Cale's age. There's something both wrong and incredibly hot about that and he wonders if Cale feels the same way with an older man going to town on his dick like this. 

He slides up off his cock and licks the tip again, reveling in how very wonderful it feels to truly be doing this again and how glorious it feels that it's _Cale_ he's kneeling in front of. He shudders and Cale arches and lets out a tiny whine and Die takes him back down, going as far down as he can even if it does make his eyes water a little. Cale chokes out his name like it's a damn prayer and arches up hard and Die swallows it all when he cums in a hot rush down his throat.

He gives him a second to come down before he pushes up off his knees and leans into him against the door, carefully letting their lips meet for kiss after kiss, languid and tinged with all the things they've just done until Cale's hands start wandering again, roaming and getting between them and unabashedly grabbing Die's dick and he arches into the touch, groaning into Cale's mouth, it only takes a moment before Cale reverses their positions and sinks to his knees in front of him, extracting him from his boxer briefs and going to town. The first hot draw of his mouth over Die's dick is like heaven come to life and the second is euphoric. Die's been with a lot of people, but he'll never get over the enthusiasm another dude has for a dick in his mouth. Sure he's met girls with oral fetishes, but there's something about a guy and them already knowing how it feels and what to do and them wanting to satisfy their own urge to suck a damn dick that just... it's a lot. _A lot_. And Die loves every single second of it.

Cale moves over him like he won't be able to live if he doesn't suck Die off just the right way. He's desperation and saliva and lewd sounds and just... so much. It makes Die want to come unglued much faster than he should be needing to but he also knows what time it is and he knows he has Cale's phone number and hell, if it's this good now, what will it be in a few months, a year? He can cum, it'll be okay if he does. 

Die shudders and reaches down to push his hand through the little tiny faux-hawk Cale has going on and grips what he can and cants his hips and whispers, "Cale, _soon_," and it gets all the enthusiasm he expected it would and soon comes much much faster than he anticipated as a few seconds later, he's gasping and cumming and he can feel every throb of his dick down to his toes and he feels like he's blown himself fully apart with this orgasm.

Cale pulls back and slowly strokes him through the end of it, licking the tip every time Die produces something more for him and it's beautiful. It takes a minute for Die to build himself back up to coherent and he almost wants to laugh at how easily he was shaken apart by this wonderful rookie hockey player and he knows he's going to want more. Not today, it can't be today, but he's going to use that number. 

Cale stands up and Die draws him in and kisses the taste of his own cum from his mouth, lingers in it and keeps them there until he can't justify it any longer and then whispers, "I have to get ready. I'll be thinking about you, about this, while I'm up there."

Cale's breathless laugh against his lips is all he needs to know and he kisses him again, good and hard before they disentangle themselves and get presentable, both checking the other and then using the mirror on the far side of the room to ensure it doesn't look like they've been doing what they were. Die takes Cale to Nora and gets back on the bus to finish getting ready for the show and if he's beaming a little more than usual, if there's a color high in his cheeks that rivals Cale's, well... that's all because of how damn good his life is right now.


End file.
